


When a Forest Met the Sea

by her_sweater



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Internal Conflict, LGBTQ Character of Color, Lesbian Character, Original Fiction, Religious Conflict, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28929390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/her_sweater/pseuds/her_sweater
Summary: Roots- one tinged with religious guilt and another soaked in generations of blood and sweat, two girls will find out that trees can grow in the ocean.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1: Part 1

Jazz music floated through the warm Texan air, as triplets jumped from the staticky notes left by the old speakers in the café. It was a sunny afternoon in San Antonio when Lennon decided to stop by the local coffee shop, Theory Coffee Company, to simply take a deep breath and enjoy her surroundings for once. It seemed as if she was always moving, writing thesis papers on biochemistry every other day, swiftly switching from the east side of the campus to the west and then back, and avoiding her entirely too attractive roommate.

Lennon's mind was racing at a mile per minute, regardless of how much she wanted to calm down like she originally intended to, but she thought it nearly ridiculous for her to even think about taking pleasure in a tall mocha frappe with chocolate drizzle. She sighed in defeat as a few happy couples strolled by, with scrawny bikers following in suit. Lennon never understood how such tiny people could manage to bike so far, as well as cause an immense amount of collateral damage to the reckless drivers in town. She was exceedingly overwhelmed, and yet her snarky attitude always had time to rear its ugly head. Lennon added a personality reconstruction to her endless list of things to do, now completely immersed in her thoughts, forgoing any sort of relaxation she hoped for.

Her brain could be so merciless at times, making her nit-picky over the tiniest of details, whether that be redrawing an unflattering diagram in her notes or washing the dishes a particular way. Lennon was, as best as she could say, a work in progress, and a mess of a lesbian at best- once again bringing her back to the issue she was trying to avoid. She, Lennon S. Healy, was smitten with her seemingly straight and very pretty roommate, Francis Carter, San Antonio's local heartthrob and perky artist.

She wanted to rip her hair out with how infuriating her situation was, even going as far as to quietly scoff at how cliché it all was, the typical lesbian trope where the lovable antihero drowns in her self pity for a morale boosting arc, lust for a possibly unwarranted sex scene, and unrequited love for the running gag of it all.

Lennon could barely contain these thoughts as the extra shots of espresso started to kick in, making her jittery and in need of physical activity as a better distraction. With a decisive and all too mentally unstable nod, Lennon was up and headed back to her dorm room, dusting off her army green girlfriend chinos and faded navy sweater. She quickly adjusted the collar of the white shirt underneath her jumper and walked with determination, a trait she had despite her muddled state of mind. As she reviewed the various assignments and essays she had to complete, while balancing the worry of the possibility of yet another awkward encounter with Francis, she could only hear the sound of her brown Oxford shoes hitting the pavement along with the occasional shuffle from her leather satchel.

After thirty minutes, Lennon grew tired from her long trek to the UIW campus and finally called for an Uber to drive her the rest of the way. The weather was slowly starting to grow chilly as September shifted into October, bringing shorter days and colder evenings. Lennon wished she had dressed more appropriately for these conditions, enclosing her arms around her torso to stay warm, seeing as she had far better things to do than awkwardly wait on a curbside for a possibly dangerous transit home. Once again, this idiotic infatuation of hers has caused an unnecessary grievance to put on her list, following the many complaints about not being able to focus during lectures and properly speak when she made eye contact with those gorgeous, green and hazel speckled orbs.

Lennon was suddenly drawn from her increasingly irritable and frantic thoughts by the short blare of a car horn, as her driver had apparently been waiting for longer than he deemed was appropriate, nearly speeding off before Lennon was even in the small vehicle. Soon after, she quickly composed herself while better situating her slim hips in the first seat on the right, almost wishing she hadn't worn a thin brown belt with her outfit as it pressed against her body underneath the seat belt, which was locked entirely too tight across her lap. Lennon started to breathe unevenly with how claustrophobic she felt, hands going to fidget with the dials on her watch. She jerkily turned to look out the window when she realized that her driver had been glaring at her through the rear-view mirror. All Lennon could do was say a quiet prayer and distract herself from the discomfort that settled over her.

Thankfully she reached the university entrance in less than five minutes, only having to count to 247 by the time her hellish trip came to an end. Lennon swiftly unbuckled the seatbelt and left the confines of the car, taking a moment to close her eyes and take a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she came face to face with her apparently short driver, insisting that she pay extra for the inconveniences she caused him. Seeing as she had already paid for her transportation over the Uber app, she saw no point in being hustled out of money she didn't have as a third year college student with only an assistantship. Regaining her edge and cool persona, she simply rolled her eyes at the bulbous man and walked away in long and meaningful strides, not even looking back to see him kick the tire of his own car.

Still focused on her unpleasant encounter, Lennon found herself at her dorm entrance, clutching her satchel with fury and vigor. As soon as she snapped out of her slightly dazed state, she made her way up to the second floor and four doors down the left. Lennon went to rap her knuckles in quick succession to notify her roommate she was back, but immediately halted with her hand in midair as anxiety leaked back into her stance. She was back to being an unsure and stupidly love-struck lesbian, as she would have to face Francis in a matter of seconds.

Deciding to forgo the knocking, Lennon took her dorm key out in hopes of possibly avoiding Francis. Silently she went about unlocking the door and slowly shuffling into the room, instead walking straight into a fantasy, as she saw her roommate lightly dressed and covered in paint. Francis was draped over their couch with an empty bucket in her calloused but dainty hands, wearing nothing but a baby blue lace bra and grey joggers, splatters of paint covering her dark skin and seemingly stuck in her curly, black locks as well. Lennon couldn't help but gasp in shock at the sight, Francis was magnificent.

Luckily, the noise hadn't pulled the girl out of her reverie, letting Lennon loosen her posture as relief flooded her. She continued to stare intensely at the moles scattering along Francis's skin, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch them all. The sight before her was so intoxicating that she almost didn't notice the large canvas on the floor instead of the chipped coffee table that was normally there. Lennon was soon enchanted by the painting, her blue eyes tracing the chaotic scene before her with reds blending into bright oranges and dark purples. What caught her attention the most was the vivid image of eyes in the center of the cacophonous work, oddly similar to hers.

It was then, by some twisted fate, that Francis gasped and rose from her place on the couch, seemingly inspired by something no one else could see. Startled, Lennon jumped a little in her spot looming over the painting, looking up to see an equally surprised Francis. With no words exchanged, Francis flashed her a brilliant white smile with her perfect teeth before adjusting her circular glasses and getting back to work. Being too flustered by the situation at hand, Lennon simply nodded her head and made to leave the room before she could embarrass herself further. She felt as if she could combust with how much her stomach fluttered at the sight of Francis's plump, upturned lips. Not to mention the other tingling feelings that raged within her when she noticed the way the darker girl's abdominal muscles flexed as she got up.

With her heart thundering in her chest, Lennon finally escaped to her room and dramatically fell onto her bed, almost hoping that she would suffocate against her sheets with how distressed she felt. She couldn't believe that she wasn't even able to muster up enough courage to say at least a few words to her roommate, a girl she would have to see for the rest of the school year. After too much moping, Lennon turned over and removed the satchel that was starting to painfully press into her delicate torso and visible hip bones. With a groan, she ruffled her shoulder length strawberry blonde hair and tried to go on with her day, seeing as she couldn't put her life on hold over a silly crush. The word itself disgusted her, being too emotional and childish in her opinion, causing her to internally grimace at the thought. It was then that she remembered what she saw in the living room before her encounter with Francis; the eyes, her eyes.

They were too peculiar to be any other pair of blue eyes, they had the same electrifying tint to them that made Lennon feel as if she were looking in a mirror. Although, why would her roommate paint her eyes? It just didn't make sense to her, but she couldn't see herself inquiring about it any time soon, especially with the dissertation she had to write for the extra chemistry class she was taking for her undergrad. With that, she let the thought leave her mind, knowing that it would keep her up longer than the essay tonight.


	2. Chapter 1: Part 2

After endless hours of working, Lennon found herself crashing from her caffeine high, completely burnt out and struggling to stay awake. Having stared at her computer until about twenty minutes past 1:00 AM, she felt satisfied with the additions she made to her paper. Tiredly, Lennon removed her large, square-like turtle glasses and rubbed her eyes, pushing herself back from her desk to stretch her arms out in a loud yawn. Her focus being away from her essay now, Lennon now noticed the soft sounds coming from Francis's room, as they shared the wall closest to Lennon's designated workspace. Curiosity now piqued and keeping up her busybody streak, Lennon decided to press her ear to the wall, and the sound that erupted through the thin material shocked her.

Lennon shook her head in disbelief, praying that she somehow misheard the muffled moaning coming from the neighboring room, making it blatantly obvious to the now panicking lesbian that Francis seemed to be relieving her sexual frustration at this hour. Lennon was equally as embarrassed as she was turned on at the situation she accidentally stumbled headfirst into. Although, she was always raised to respect others' privacy and brought her head away, albeit reluctantly, from the wretched drywall, the one thing stopping her from witnessing something she had only dreamt of when she let her mind wander further than what one might deem appropriate. Nevertheless, Lennon understood the boundaries that existed and internally scolded herself for the unnecessary perversion she indulged in. Even though she was also taught to be very accepting of one's natural sexuality and not condemn such things, she just felt particularly guilty since Francis probably hadn't done those things with hopes of entertaining an audience. Head hung low, Lennon proceeded to strip down to her black Calvin Klein underwear and put on an oversized, vintage shirt for ease and comfort during the night. With one final look towards the offending wall, quieter sounds still emanating from it, she silently turned off her lights and settled into bed. Not even after five minutes of laying there, sleep had taken over her lithe frame and all was still in the pale girl's room, only the occasional rustle of a tree branch breaking the calmness that surrounded her.

The next morning, Lennon awoke to the smell of eggs and turkey bacon, only knowing that since the girls quickly established dietary needs and preferences when they discovered they'd be roommates for the year. With a small grunt, the still exhausted girl dragged herself from a now untidy bed and walked straight towards the delicious smell, not even bothering to rearrange her sheets or put on pants, something she would regret as soon as she got her morning coffee. Without a misstep, Lennon made her way to the coffeemaker in the kitchen, not noticing how Francis's originally guilty expression immediately changed to one of intrigue and amazement. In fact, Lennon had yet to even properly open her eyes since waking up to notice that she wasn't alone. Although she knew that the food hadn't cooked itself, she was too tired to fully comprehend the explanation behind it. Finally pouring herself a cup of coffee, having started the Keurig without much thought, she left it black to let the bitterness start her day off right. It was after the first few sips that reality bludgeoned Lennon over her thick skull as her eyes almost comically bulged out of her head, realizing her countless mistakes and blaming them all on her insistence to stay up so late. Lennon was completely and utterly screwed, now half naked with, what she assumed to be terrible, bed head in front of Francis, the one girl that could literally make her heart explode.

Refusing to drown in her mortification, Lennon composed herself while she was still facing away from her roommate, coaching her expression into something more nonchalant. Turning around, she was met with an inquisitive eyebrow quirk and teasing smile, to which she simply shrugged at in response and made her way to the small breakfast bar with her steaming mug in hand. Lennon made herself comfortable in a seat distant from Francis's, promptly taking a gulp from her coffee before pulling the plate of food that was ever so graciously prepared for her. Remembering her manners, the strawberry blonde gave a slightly dismissive nod in thanks towards Francis before taking a few large bites from her hearty meal, something which they often steered clear of. The flavors finally registering in her mouth, Lennon closed her eyes and let out a small moan, too lost in the moment to even bother looking at her company.

Little did she know, Francis had been quietly studying her every action since first appearing in the room, her fascination growing with time. She had found herself using the word cute to describe Lennon more and more often, thinking that her inability to hold a proper conversation with her to be rather endearing. Although, all functioning thoughts left Francis as soon as Lennon let out that delectable noise, something too arousing to call a sigh but too meek to saturate in sex. Any reasonable person would be uncomfortable, or maybe even amused, but Francis was suddenly reminded of the worry that riddled her late last night and soaked into the morning. Too conflicted with her actions and mind now clouded with emotions she shouldn't be having, Francis inadvertently expressed her exasperated state with a heavy sigh as she removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. It was then that Lennon was brought out of her food induced daydream, taking note of her roommates slumped posture and overwhelmingly conflicted and sad appearance. Awkwardly, Lennon pushed her plate away and shifted her seat closer to Francis, too focused on her distressed roommate to see that her oversized shirt was riding further up her thighs.

By the time that Lennon had gotten close enough to make an attempt at consoling Francis, the bottom of her boy shorts were peeking out from underneath the off white material poorly covering her frame. What she did next surprised them both, as Lennon had hesitantly reached out a delicate hand to gently rest it on the darker girl's muscular thigh, exposed by athletic shorts she seems to have changed into for the night. With a quick squeeze, she retracted her hand, now having Francis's attention as their eyes connected in an oddly intense gaze. Not having thought this far ahead, Lennon stared into her counterpart's eyes, getting lost in each note of honey and moss that the morning light set on fire. Francis refused to end the moment, barely even breathing, for fear that any indication that this was actually happening would startle her normally anxious and aloof roommate. With no words spoken, a forest had met the ocean in San Antonio, and nothing would ever be the same again.


	3. Chapter 2: Part 1

After a few seconds had passed, feeling like a burning eternity for Lennon, she broke her gaze away from the dark beauty before her, taking note of their close proximity. Clearing her throat, the blue eyed girl let out a forced chuckle and slightly pulled away from the girl. No longer having the strength to mask her emotions, Lennon fell back into a panicked state and could barely look at Francis, instead choosing to ignore what just happened and looking down at her fingers slightly fidgeting in her lap. Similarly, Francis had noticed the awkward air around them, the tension nearly palpable as the sun crept further and further into the sky, ending the warm moment as shadows were cast into the kitchen instead of a rich glow from the sunrise. Although disappointed with the anticlimactic events that occurred, and still dripping with anticipation, Francis tried to salvage her pride by flaunting her falsely confident grandeur with jaunty laugh. The boisterous noise brought Lennon out of her contemplative mood, as she looked up to see the odd sight before her. Lennon felt worse, if that was possible, needing to leave the room to properly sulk and lose herself in the copious amounts of pity and shame that started to string in her eyes. Without looking up, she quickly stood up and gently put her dishes in the sink, not even bothering to finish her coffee, let alone rinse the mug. Still in flight mode, Lennon refused to look back as she left a now remorseful Francis begins her, finally disappearing into her room with the echo of her door slamming resounding in the dormitory.

Francis had stopped laughing as soon as she realized what she had done, a deep frown maring the normally smooth features of her face while she took in her now lonesome status. She could hardly understand how things had taken such a horrible turn so rapidly; one moment there was such intense chemistry between them, a feeling of completion she had never felt until now; and then the next, she could only see Lennon's retreating figure after her selfish attempt at soothing her own nerves. Francis knew her now scorned roommate would not be emerging any time soon, not when she had acted like that and ruined any chance of befriending the young biochemist. Lennon was an enigma, someone that made her heart beat a little faster in what she deemed was curiosity, seeing as the strawberry blonde definitely had her attention. Still deeply troubled by the incident, her insecurities started to creep into the corners of her mind, leaving her to wonder why she cared so much. Regardless, she let out a deep sigh, suddenly exhausted with all that had happened, and collected the remaining plates on the table, opting to simply put them all in the sink like Lennon had. Looking back at the two empty stools, Francis could only shake her head as she retired to her own room, closing her door, almost not wanting to hear the click disrupt the heavy silence that hung around her.

Meanwhile, Lennon had been burning holes into the ceiling of her room, the sensation of regret and embarrassment sickeningly swirling within the pits of her stomach, making it drop further, if that was even possible. She doesn't know what possessed her to get so close to Francis this morning, not necessarily physically, but emotionally. Lennon couldn't remember the last girl she had ever properly loved before, although she found herself becoming even more repulsed at the idea of having feelings for her roommate, her actions having wounded her deeply. If it wasn't obvious enough, Lennon had been vulnerable with the dark skinned girl today, she had let her walls down in an attempt to comfort her during an internal plight, only to be met with humiliation. The recollection of what happened made hot tears prick the corners of the pale girl's stormy eyes, now heavy with contempt and misery, as she let out a shaky breath. Not being used to all of the stress caused by the pain in her heart, Lennon began breathing faster and faster, letting out a strangled sob for help. This was the first time in the last few months that she felt herself falling into a panic attack, and at fate would have it, she knew her pill bottle would be empty. Lennon hadn't refilled her medication in a while since she felt more confident in her ability to prevent an anxious fit, but she should have been responsible and at least kept a few pills around for situations like this. Soon enough, the girl was crying violently, her chest heaving while her body shook, she was quickly losing control and that realization only made her spiral further.

Not being in a place to pay much attention to her surroundings, Lennon had missed the sound of her door creaking open and a sharp gasp, followed by rushed steps to her side. Before she knew it, Lennon was encompassed by two, toned arms, dark skin stretching tightly over accentuated biceps. Francis had never dealt with something like this, let alone know what helped Lennon the most, but she tried her best to steadily coax some slower breathing out of the trembling girl, moving her hands to gently stroke her soft, strawberry blonde hair. Soon enough, Lennon was on Francis's lap while she went about calming her down with soft reminders to breathe and look at Francis, as the hazel eyed girl continued to comb out at knots in the hair she wound herself slightly in awe of. After what seemed like an eternity for Lennon, she was finally able to control herself, taking deep, exhausted breaths from her place, safely tucked against Francis's body. The girl could hardly find the strength to lift her head up, choosing to let herself relax under the other girl's ministrations, almost humming appreciatively.

It wasn't everyday that Lennon found herself getting hurt and placated by the same person, but these unusual days in her methodically planned out schedule seemed to become more frequent as she felt her feelings for Francis grow with each passing moment. Too tired to fully assess the trouble she was in, Lennon decided to simply enjoy the moment and get lost in Francis's calming scent of cucumber and sage, along with something muskier that was just Francis. Subtly nuzzling her nose into her roommate's neck, Lennon slowly started to fall into a deep sleep, her body giving in to the true extent of fatigue it felt. Similarly, Francis found herself getting lost in her own thoughts as well, mindlessly coddling the blue eyes beauty in her arms once she knew the fit was over. It seemed as if the world was giving her another chance to fix things with the girl, and the position they were currently in wouldn't strike her as odd until much later. So for the time being, Francis just enjoyed the still peacefulness of the moment, falling in love with the way she could feel Lennon's trust as her body lost its rigid stance, and losing her mind in the strong notes of rose and lavender coming from the hair that her hand was tangled in. Francis was happy, and so was the girl sleeping in her arms.


	4. Chapter 2: Part 2

It was early in the afternoon when Lennon woke up from her nap, feeling more refreshed than she had ever in these last few years of her life, things only growing more hectic as she got older. Rubbing the residual sleep from her eyes, she rose from her position on her back, soon coming to realize that she was currently being restrained by an arm draped across her torso. Without much warming, the aforementioned arm instinctively wrapped around her waist tighter, making Lennon panic slightly as she hadn't taken the time to remember what had occurred before her nap. With fear creeping along her spine, Lennon let her eyes wander to the figure laying beside her, catching a glimpse of a thick, curly hair before quickly averting her gaze to the ceiling. It finally registered in her mind that Francis, her straight roommate for whom she might have feelings, was cuddling into her side, following the nap that apparently occurred after her panic attack. Memories of the hours leading up to this moment flooded into Lennon's mind, as her breath quickened from the idea of having Francis take care of her in such an intimate way. She was obviously a tad guilty about having not kept her composure and letting the dark girl see her in such a state, but her giddiness was far too overpowering to let her properly sulk.

Lennon was enjoying this unprecedented interaction, while her counterpart only unconsciously brought them closer together, when she was overwhelmed with joy at the thought of waking up like this everyday. Suddenly comprehending the implications of her unfiltered thoughts, the pale girl's eyes widened in shock as she took in a violent breath. Unfortunately, the slightly jerk of her body the reaction caused had been enough to rouse the muscled beauty sleeping next to her. Without much time to think, Lennon closed her eyes and prayed that Francis wouldn't be too adverse to their present arrangement, not knowing if she would be able to handle the possibility of rejection. At the same time, her roommate had groggily woken up beside her, instantly aware of the fact that she was cuddling the girl she had comforted not to long ago. Suddenly flustered by the predicament she was in, the girl thanked God that Lennon hadn't been awake to notice how close they were, and how touch deprived Francis evidently was. Too self conscious to think about anything else, she cautiously released Lennon from her grip and lifted herself off the small twin bed. Once she was completely off the bed, Francis risked stretching her limbs while standing at the foot of the mattress, holding back a small yawn that worked its way to her full lips. Her eyes were tightly closed as she brought the back of her hand to her mouth, too preoccupied to notice that Lennon had moved to sit up against her headboard. When Francis's hazel eyes had finally refocused, she was met with the amused expression of the half Irish girl before her, watching as it slowly turned into one of sadness. Tension started to fill the once untroubled room, unbearably stifling for both girls, as neither had the courage to speak or end their silent suffering.

Too frightened at the prospect of offending Lennon, Francis started to extend her hand to the side to lean against a shelf she briefly saw in her peripheral vision. With that one action, the uneasy environment rapidly shifted into one of chaos and humor, as Francis found herself falling to the ground with the thud of what seemed to be a heavy biochemistry textbook. Apparently, the book has been balanced precariously on the edge of the shelf, being the first thing Francis had come in contact with during her endeavor, which led to both being sprawled out on the dark hardwood floor now. Unbeknownst to the fallen beauty, Lennon was having a hard time keeping in her quiet laughter, as her concern had quickly been replaced by mirth. Completely frazzled by the turn of events, Francis was swift in jumping to her feet, awkwardly juggling the large textbook around in her hands, worried that Lennon might be mad at any damage caused. It was then that she saw Lennon gently quiver with restrained laughter, as what seemed to be soft giggles were getting muffled by slender fingers held up in a polite manner over her pursed lips, the sight was angelic to Francis.

In awe, she continued to study the way the lighter girl's eyes would crinkle at the corner, while lidded eyes worked to slightly hide her ocean blue orbs, cheeks pulled into a smile and button nose scrunched up. The book now resting in one hand, the Afro-Asian girl placed it back on the shelf with great care, not wanting someone to recreate her dramatic fall any time soon. As Lennon's merriment started to recede, she was acutely aware of Francis's attention being solely on her, suddenly a little self conscious at the fact. With hesitation, Francis's hands moved in a gesture that the girl had come to realize was meant for reassurance. Releasing a breath she had unknowingly held, Lennon motioned for her roommate to join her on the bed again with aplomb, her normal poise suddenly returning. Slowly, Francis situated herself next to Lennon in the bed, sitting next to her in an upright orientation. Not bothering to look up, the darker girl simply stared ahead at the spot she once occupied, taking in the lightness and safety of the moment. Lennon was satisfied at the look of happiness that settled on Francis's face, choosing to rest her head on the girl's brawn shoulder and let out a sigh of contentment. At the moment, things were slow, but that was something Lennon could handle; only for her.


	5. Chapter 2: Part 3

After a few minutes of the pleasant quietness, Lennon deftly moved her fingers to dance along Francis's upturned forearm, spinning around to spell out 'thank you' on her warm skin. While doing so, she could feel the muscle ripple beneath her fingertips, as her roommate tensed for a moment before growing accustomed to the feeling. Francis thought the delicate motion to be dizzying, in a manner that was almost intoxicating to her, and she didn't know why it felt so right. Choosing not to fret over her unusual thoughts, Francis continued to following every turn and pirouette the pale fingers did on her arm, noting the appeal of their contrasting skin tones, hers being a warm and rich brown, while Lennon's was a freckled porcelain; together, they were like The Birth of Venus, magnificent. Still ignoring the warmth that started to spread in the base of her stomach, Francis decided that she wanted to channel these feelings into her artwork. She knew that her teacher suggested that she try something similar to a Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood style or Impressionism, rather than her usual Contemporary and Abstract vision. At first, the girl was obviously upset with the request, as she quite enjoyed the freedom her preferred techniques offered her, but now, Francis couldn't seem to start soon enough. Better yet, she even had someone in mind to be her model, someone with light skin and the dreamiest of eyes.

With delight swirling in her own hazel eyes, making the flecks of green stand out more, Francis excitedly grabbed Lennon's hand, effectively stopping its movement, and pulled her off the bed. Noticing the look of confusion in the other girl's eyes, she tried to give a reassuring look before dragging Lennon into her room instead, needing to gather some materials before setting up camp in the living room. As soon as Lennon had entered her room, she stood in awe at the sight of a beautiful mountain landscape Francis had painted on the wall, something which was surely against the rules on campus. Rather than expressing her concern about the possible illegal activity her inspired counterpart was involved in, Lennon simply observed her new surroundings. Unlike her room, Lennon could see various items of clothing strewn about the floor- a lacy pair of army green underwear among the mess- with a surplus amount of painting supplies and canvases leaning against or on every available surface. Although a tad disgruntled at Francis's disorderly personal quarters, Lennon couldn't help but admire the girl's passion for art; it was beautiful. Before her investigation was complete, Lennon felt her arm getting tugged out of the room, as her roommate had apparently found everything she needed for whatever shenanigans she had planned. She must admit that her curiosity was immense at the moment, but she didn't want to risk breaking the girl from her vision, clearly being overcome with zealousness. It was actually quite a turn on; Francis was still scantily clad in her pajamas with supplies nestled in the crook of her other arm, muscles slightly protruding from the strain, and her other hand tenderly encircling Lennon's forearm.

Not bothering to slow down, Francis went to work on scattering her materials around the floor, seemingly having an organizational method that only made sense to herself. Soon enough, Lennon could hear paint canisters opening as the darker girl had miraculously came up with a screwdriver from somewhere, meticulously running the flathead underneath the sealed rim of the lid. The strawberry blonde was aching with intrigue and lust at the sight before her, light eyebrows nearly vanishing into her hairline when Francis started to take her shirt off. Luckily, the artist was wearing a black bralette beneath it, preferring to work with the dormitory's cool air playing along her heated skin. Now having mixed a plethora of colors in a small bucket, Francis quickly dabbed a decent sized brush into the tannish paint and softly stroked it against Lennon's exposed arm. Unsatisfied with the blend, she went back to work on creating a base skin tone that better matched the pale femme fatale before her, her presence like an ethereal force. Her body tingled with exhilaration as she vigorously stirred some off-white paint into the gradually weightier container, too infatuated with her muse to even properly situate her. With one final color addition, Francis repeated her testing process and came up with an acceptable result, splashing the bucket of paint onto a very large canvas before Lennon could even acknowledge the ticklish feeling of the brush's bristles.

Her jaw nearly dropping in amazement, a wide smile spread across Lennon's face as she watched Francis lose herself in the art before her. Hardly bothered by the fact that the girl didn't acknowledge her presence past a few glances at her arm, Lennon chose to settle down on the couch, seeing things begin to take shape. With more splashes of paint, Francis expertly manipulated and maneuvered various sized containers filled with the muted tones. Eventually, there was a rough outline of what looked to be two hands, one light and the other dark, interlocked on the canvas, with splatters of the original colors and some shading dancing into the white space. It was a breathtaking sight, the cause of such inspiration finally dawning on her; it was their hands, together.

In that moment, Lennon felt something in her stomach flutter about, making its way to take up permanent residence in her heart. It was all too touching not to feel some sort of attraction towards the artist, her mind was beautiful, expressing what words simply could not. Regardless of how platonic the scene must have been, Lennon Couldn't help but feel a deep blush heat her pale face, a reddish hue becoming the backdrop to her freckles.

At the same time, Francis had the urge to take a look at her muse, catching a furiously blushing Lennon failing horribly at hiding her bright cheeks. If only Francis could capture this image on the canvas as well, for it was far too lovely, and frankly adorable, for her to let slip away in her forgotten memories. Without permission, her heartbeat started to speed up as she sucked in an unwarrantedly quivering breath. Francis was floored, and it showed, her gaze not once breaking from the half Irish belle, underdressed and cross-legged on the couch, with flushed skin lighting up a constellation of moles along her collar bones, hands positioned over her gorgeous blue eyes in an attempt to cover her face. The only coherent thought formed by the darker girl was, and could only ever be, 'wow', and Lennon was most definitely thinking the same thing in return.


	6. Chapter 3: Part 1

Following the previous day's fiasco and spontaneous painting session, a deep silence had draped itself over the shared dorm, only the sound of a lost hummingbird making its way through the gap beneath Lennon's window. The strawberry blonde was sitting in a daze at her desk, pink lips parted and blue eyes stormy and unfocused. Even now, her thoughts were quieter than ever, as a particular image clouded her mind; the slight quirk of plump lips, light performing a waltz across each green fleck hidden in hazel orbs, and dark, dewy skin stretched over a muscled, feminine frame. Lennon was convinced she had met God in that moment, and she knew that it was wrong of her to let Him take a human embodiment, but there was no other way to think of Francis. She was God, and Lennon had every intention of eating the lord.

Pulling herself from her reverie, Lennon rapidly opened and closed her eyes, somewhat shocked at how salacious her thoughts had become. Regret was etched into her soft features and finally left once she prayed with the rosary, not once believing she deserved forgiveness for glorifying the raw, sexual intensity her roommate emanated and comparing the Heavenly Father to an intoxicatingly hazy account of the woman. Regardless of what she thought, Lennon knew redemption was always a heavily trodden pathway with God's hand as the only guide, like an olive branch in her sinful wake.

Lennon was raised Catholic and attended a church that didn't preach anti-gay sentiment, but was devoted to extending the Father's endless love for his favorite creatures on Earth. It was common to meet Catholics who didn't agree with their practices, but those minor adversities were easily shadowed by the accepting environment Lennon's parents created for her, promoting personal growth, the development of her own political and social views, and never failing to encourage the exploration and understanding of other religions. This freedom allowed Lennon to respect her faith even more and develop a deep connection with God, while still enriching her mind with knowledge of Islam, Buddhism, Judaism, Hinduism, and other denominations of Christianity.

It was within this education that the blue-eyed girl found solace, determined to dedicate her life to the pursuit of knowledge, relating to Horace Mann in that simple way, but still finding a deeper devotion to Voltaire. 'Crush the infamous thing', Lennon thought, a small smile gracing her face as she took strength from the words beyond their time. Crush the bigotry, intolerance, and superstition invading the world, let us be free.

Finishing her prayer with an internal 'Amen', Lennon gently set her rosary down and stared at the wooden beads for a short while. It was a family heirloom, having been crafted by her great-grandfather on her maternal side and gifted to his wife, it was then passed down to the eldest daughter of every generation. Luckily, there wasn't much fuss about Lennon being the new recipient of the rosary, as she was her mother's only daughter and there was no longer much interest from her cousins over what they claimed to be a rotted chastity belt and forced servitude to an unknown being. Although Lennon didn't have all the answers for once, she took comfort in the idea that at least God knew her, and with that, she rose from the ground and extinguished the wavering flame that connected her to Christ.

Just past the thin drywall of Lennon's room, Francis was comfortably wrapped in her bed sheets, the accompanying satin pillows having been strewn about the room from her restless sleeping habits. Despite the long night, Francis happily welcomed the vibrations she felt from her alarm, signifying that it was time to start yet another productive day. A giggle erupted from the slightly drowsy girl as she slowly lifted her upper body from the bed, the sheets still tightly embracing Francis, compensating for the person who should have been there too. 'Lennon', the name did backflips in her mind to mirror her heart's actions, the girl with pink-tinged, blonde locks that probably tickled her clavicle while she undressed, freckles and moles splattered across pale skin, dreamily akin to Pollock's work, and the delicate protrusion of hip bones behind chic mom jeans. Only Lennon could pull off the business casual look with her plethora of blazers, simple tops, and mildly distressed jeans, usually paired with those expensive Oxfords and leather satchel.

Money was a sensitive topic for Francis, as her family had dangerously tiptoed the line separating the middle and lower classes. Her dad was a pastor in El Paso and her mom owned a small Japanese-American fusion restaurant that had been passed down from her grandparents, who never forgot to remind Francis of the hardships they faced during World War II as more and more Americans had directed their anger towards innocent US citizens and immigrants of Eastern Asian descent at the time. It was a miracle her grandmother wasn't sent to an internment camp, and her grandfather could hardly do much to protect his wife from the hateful slurs coming from community members, already facing backlash for their interracial relationship. Regardless of the blood and sweat soaked roots Francis's family had planted in Texas all those decades ago, they were still far from being the richest family, and the dark skinned girl was always taught that success came from hard work, as no woman of color simply drank from the wealth of a white man without becoming his whore too.

The pressure Francis had felt growing up was suffocating at times; she was constantly expected to maintain her unweighted 4.0 GPA, juggle various extracurriculars, and fight tooth and nail for her place as her year's valedictorian. Getting into the University of the Incarnate Word was no easy feat, as the private school was exactly what her parents wanted yet could not financially provide for her, so Francis was entirely funded by scholarships and every last penny she had earned in high school. Better yet, her roommate was well off enough to make Francis feel a tad bit insecure around her, as she often found herself wearing the few brand name articles of clothing she owned while in Lennon's company, and working extra shifts as a barista to afford her lacy undergarments. Although, this was information the pale girl wasn't privy to, and Francis had no desire to ruin their blossoming friendship by bringing up the less than ideal socioeconomic gap between them.

With a short huff, Francis swiftly shook the remnants of those negative thoughts from her mind, no longer wanting to dwell on why she could never be fully transparent with Lennon. Beyond her worries about money, the dark girl was even further removed from the original bliss she had awoken with when she realized that today was a wash day. Thankfully, Francis had medium porosity hair and only planned on putting box braids in for the next few weeks, which only required her to find one of her many bonnets and apply hair oils every so often before bed. The upkeep for her 3C hair was dreadful at times, especially with her heavy dependence on local salons and the internet as her mom was never able to offer much help in that department while she was growing up. Nevertheless, Francis was more than grateful for what she did have, and went about gathering the materials she would need to detangle and moisturize her hair.


End file.
